


Leviosa

by orphan_account



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, Gryffindor Scott, Harry Potter AU, Rivals to Friends to More than Friends?, Slytherin Tessa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-21 16:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14288667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Madame Zoueva talks the class through the basics of flying, encouraging the students to follow along if they feel comfortable. How to rise and fall, how to stop, control your speed, turn left and right, mount and dismount. Scott barely listens, can’t seem to stop stealing glances at the girl with the dark hair and the green scarf and the custom Nimbus 4000 as she executes every new skill with grace and precision."Harry Potter AU.





	1. Year One

**Author's Note:**

> This has been knocking around in my brain for a while. I identify Scott and Tessa both so strongly with Gryffindor and Slytherin, I just had to do this.

His hand-me-down robes are swallowing him whole. He's clutching the Hailybury Hammers button in his pocket for good luck, his palms sweating as he fidgets. He thinks he might pass out, sitting here with the Sorting Hat on his head, but then it's over, and he's walking towards his brother with a stupid grin on his face, and he doesn't care that he smells like a used sock or that his robes are two sizes too big. 

He's a Gryffindor, now.

***

The first few weeks away from home are hard. It's not the same for the other students, Scott thinks, who travelled here by train from towns and cities not so far away, full of people who sound just like them. (Sure, he only had to travel by floo powder to the Leaky Cauldron, but _still_.) There’s an entire ocean between him and everything he knows.

Being Canadian at Hogwarts is not so newsworthy -- not since at least a decade ago, when they opened enrollment to the children of  expatriate alumni -- but it's still a novelty. All of his friends back home are off at Ilvermorny. At Hogwarts, there's a third year from Nova Scotia and a sixth year from New Brunswick, and of course, Charlie and Danny before him. 

There's one other Canadian in his year, but she's in Slytherin, and Slytherins and Gryffindors aren't friends. At least, that's what his brothers have told him, and they're usually right about these things. She's in his potions and herbology classes, and she's probably the smartest girl in their entire grade. She's not a know-it-all, but she always knows the answers to things when she's called on and hasn't once lost an eyebrow in potions (which is the very low bar Scott has unfortunately had to set for himself).

She helps him one day, in potions. He’s not sure why — maybe she’s afraid he’ll burn off everyone else's eyebrows this time. That must be it, because she’s in Slytherin, and Slytherins are only ever looking out for themselves. 

"Root of myrtle," she says, pointing to a footnote in his text. "It goes in before the anise."

"What?" He looks down at the passage in his book, and sure enough, he was about to skip a crucial step. He turns to thank her, but she's already buried in her own work.

***

Scott is every bit as good at flying as he is bad at reading directions. He can hardly sleep from excitement the night before their first flying lesson. Charlie used to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and Danny is their star Keeper, so he's trained with the best. He knows if he impresses Madame Zoueva in their first lesson, he might have a shot at an alternate position his first year. That’s what happened with Danny.

It’s a brisk Saturday afternoon. The first years from Slytherin and Gryffindor gather out on the Quidditch pitch in two rows, brooms at their sides. Not everyone has a broom of their own, but Scott has Charlie’s old Firebolt, and he thinks if he makes the team this year, he’ll be able to convince his mom to get him the newest model. But the old one’s not bad, really. When Madame Zoueva instructs them all to say, “Up,” to their broomsticks, Scott’s Firebolt jumps straight into his hand. Only a handful of students are successful on their first try. Scott grips his proudly, looks up and down the rows of students to take stock of the competition.

Scott’s ears go red. Of course she’d be good at this, too.

Madame Zoueva talks the class through the basics of flying, encouraging the students to follow along if they feel comfortable. How to rise and fall, how to stop, control your speed, turn left and right, mount and dismount. Scott barely listens, can’t seem to stop stealing glances at the girl with the dark hair and the green scarf and the custom Nimbus 4000 as she executes every new skill with grace and precision.

Madame Zoueva must take notice, too. Two weeks later, after Quidditch tryouts, Scott earns the alternate spot he had been gunning for (Chaser, third string), and Tessa is named the youngest player on the Slytherin team in a decade.


	2. Year Two

"Isn't that Danny Moir's brother?"

Whispers follow him from the common room the moment he steps out in his scarlet playing robes. Danny always seemed like a legend to Scott, but he didn't realize how much of a legend he actually was. During his tenure as Keeper, Danny led Gryffindor to House Cup victory for three consecutive years, including a complete shut-out against Ravenclaw for the Cup in year five.

And so Scott walks out onto the Quidditch pitch on this cloudless October day under the shadow of his brother's legacy.

He squeezes the Hailybury Hammers button in his pocket for good luck. Grips his broom, takes a deep breath, and kicks off.

***

Scott isn't the fastest or the strongest -- doesn't have the most obvious build for a Chaser -- but he moves with a preternatural fluidity, piloting his Firebolt with a dancer's intuition. He always seems to know exactly where the quaffle will be and can get there before anyone else even knows what's happening. It's evident, fairly early on, that Scott Moir is pretty great at this.

(Undeniably,  _annoyingly_  great at this. Tessa watches him while he plays. Well, she watches everything else, too. Circling the stadium from above with laser focus, occasionally swooping to investigate a phantom snitch. But she does notice him. The way he maneuvers from A to B in the least intuitive but ultimately most efficient pattern. It makes her head spin. It makes her furious.)

“On your left!”

Scott picks up speed as he sweeps past his teammate for an interception. He makes a sharp turn, dives to avoid a bludger, whips back around and scores 10 points for Gryffindor. The crowd goes wild. They’re still behind by 30, but momentum is building.  They’ve been struggling to keep up from the beginning. Slytherin’s team is strong this year, and their new Keeper — a third year with Day-Glo ginger hair and a crooked nose — has been giving away easy points.

The match goes back and forth like this for a while, a game of tug-of-war played out in slow motion. Gryffindor scores 20 points, Slytherin scores 30. Gryffindor is down by all of 60 points when their Seeker catches the snitch.

Tessa spots it first, flitting around at the opposite end of the stadium, but it’s an impossible situation — she either takes off and risks giving up its location or prays the other Seeker doesn’t see it long enough to get closer. In the end, she chooses to go for it, taking off at full speed. She’s incredible, but it doesn’t matter. Gryffindor’s Seeker follows her path to its logical conclusion and beats her to the snitch by a hair. Game over.

***

Scott hates the library. Hate is a strong word, but his hate for the library is strong. He never goes there voluntarily, only stops by when an assignment absolutely requires him to check out a book — and even then, it’s an in-and-out procedure.

It’s an unseasonably warm autumn afternoon.  _Perfect for flying_ , Scott notes grimly. He’s got about a thousand words on boggarts due Tuesday, and if he doesn’t get started now, he’ll never finish. The plan, as he imagines it, is to find two or three books with decent-sized passages on boggarts, take turns copying sentences from each, mixing the words up as he goes, and pray Professor Browning doesn’t notice the borrowed copy. He's scanning the shelves for a particular title, when suddenly--

“Good game.”

“What?” Scott whips around to find her there, buried in parchment in a corner of the stacks. 

“You were good," she says.

“Oh. Thanks.”  _Should he return the compliment?_

“Sorry — you look like you’re busy,” she says.

“No,” he says, a little too quickly. “I mean, I'm just looking for a book.”

"There are a lot of those here." 

"Yeah," he says, lamely. "Um," he says, absently scratching the hair at the nape of his neck.

"You're from Ilderton, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"I'm from London." Scott knew this already, but he wasn't about to bring it up.

"I know," he says, a little shortly. Then, backtracking, "I mean, there are only so many of us."

"It's weird, right? Being away."

Scott shrugs. "You get used to it. I think."

She tucks a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. "Do you miss it?"

"All the time." 

***

_Danny,_

_Thanks for the care package. Nice try with the puking pastiles, but I know what they look like now. I traded them for a Safe-Spelling Quill, so joke's on you. School is good, so tell mom not to worry. I got an E on my DADA essay on boggarts. Turns out the library isn't so bad. I spent a whole afternoon there and I didn't explode. Tessa Virtue helped me write my paper, I'm not really sure why. You remember Tessa, right? She hangs out there all the time. I don't think she has many friends, but she's not so bad. I think maybe she was supposed to be in Ravenclaw and the Sorting Hat got confused. I have to go now. Chocolate cake tonight in dining hall._

_Scott_

_Oh, P.S. Won our first game of the season!_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr now! @softbroscottmoir 
> 
> As always, I love comments.


End file.
